Batman: The Debut
by Yellowlantern Luke
Summary: The Dark Knight makes his debut in Gotham City as he attempts to break up a trade off between two members of the Crime Triumvirate, Roman Sionis and Carmine Falcone. (Test writing for future fic. Please comment and critique)


_A/N: Okay, so this is a work in progress that is far...far from completion. This is a part of an origin story that I had been building in my mind for about two years now and am finally attempting to write it. It is a part of my attempt to create a large DC universe in my own image, and I thought that there would be no better place to start then with a character that I know almost everything about. Unfortunately, writing a story takes a very, very long time, and I've been subject to blockage in the story. So, I decided to upload a part of the story to see if people respond well to it, or can offer any critiques on how I can improve. I have a little miniseries of one shots on the villain Darkseid as well, in an attempt to put out content as well as to build up Darkseid in the universe so as not to have to delve to deep into him in the future._

_So, this is a fragment of my Batman project, currently not titled. I guess I can say this is me testing out a zero issue comic, which if I ever get off the ground, can spawn off into a larger universe with origins for Superman, Wonder Woman, The Flash and others, eventually allowing me to basically...create a universe._

_So, I am pleading with you guys to leave a review after you read this. I really want to know how any of you who read this respond to the work below. If you have any critiques, I ask that you please share them with me so I can try to improve my writing capabilities. Again, I really would appreciate it if you would leave a comment; in fact, I beg you to let me know how I can improve, if I would go so far as to sound desperate. So...enjoy!_

Batcave

Alfred stepped off of the elevator as it opened its doors, walking deeper into the underground tunnels that Bruce had began to excavate ever since he returned to Gotham. Alfred walked for a few minutes before his feet began to step on metal instead of earth. It wasn't long until Alfred arrived into the innermost cave of the tunnels, and he saw Bruce studying camera feeds of the Gotham City docks. The butler walked over to Bruce's side and laid the tray he had been carrying next to Bruce, unveiling the top to reveal a dinner of roast beef with barley oats and broccoli on the side. Bruce looked at the tray, gave a sigh, and then went back to the monitors.

"I'm about to go out on a run, Alfred."

"As important as that may be, sir, even you must eat from time to time. Being nocturnal does not mean you must starve yourself."

Bruce sighed dejectedly as he pulled the tray in front of him and began to eat the meal, still keeping his eyes on the screen.

"Doing some scouting, I presume sir?"

"Last night, I was able to hack that thug's phone, and I found messages about some sort of trade deal with the Falcone family down by the Gotham Docks. I think this is exactly the kind of deal I've been waiting for."

"Waiting for, sir?" Alfred replied, curiosity entering his voice.

"I've been at this for about two months now, Alfred, and nothing has changed."

"Well, you can't hope to clean an entire city by yourself in that span of time, Master Bruce."

"I know that, Alfred. But, it's not just that. The criminals I've gone after have been low level punks. Shoplifters, drug dealers, pimps; they need to be stopped, but they don't have as much of an impact as the gangs of the Gotham City 'Crime Triumvirate'. If I break up this trade, then it'll send a message the Triumvirate cannot hope to ignore."

"Interesting plan, sir. Of course, you do know you'll be made a target for this? Besides, I'm not sure how the criminals of Gotham will react to a man with a ski mask hunting them down. They might not have the reaction you're hoping for."

Bruce gave Alfred a sidelong and sarcastic glance, before he turned back to the screen and finished off his plate.

"I had to work with what I had. Besides, how much more ridiculous would billionaire Bruce Wayne hunting down criminals be."

"At least billionaire Bruce Wayne has style, sir."

Bruce gave a chortle of laughter at his friend's retort, causing Alfred to smile as well. Alfred took up Bruce's tray, just as Bruce stood up from his desk. Alfred looked up at his master to see the all too familiar scowl that he had been putting on recently. Alfred saw a group of armed men on the monitor screens, all wearing specially tailored Italian suits. Bruce pressed a button on the console and strode to the other side of the room. A panel of the floor lifted where he was, revealing a special pod like structure. Alfred walked over, his curiosity piqued even more.

"What is this?"

"You said that criminals won't be afraid of a ski mask, and you're right. They need something else to be afraid of. Something dark, predatory. Something that will haunt them in their nightmares, and make them pray for the sun. Lucius and I have been working on this for a while, and I think tonight is the perfect night for it to make its debut."

As Bruce said this, the panel on the front of the pod slid open, revealing a dark and caped suit. It consisted of a black and grey color scheme, with a large black bat shape on the chest. Gauntlets from Bruce's training with master Kirigi hung by the side, and several collapsible bat- shaped projectiles on the other. A belt with several compartments lay below the suit on full display. Bruce stared at the suit for a minute, calming his nerves before he put the suit on. Alfred glanced at the suit, and then back to Bruce, a questioning look in his eye.

"A bat, sir?"

"What comes to your mind when you think of night?"

"Well…it's intimidating, I'll give it that. Are you sure about this sir?"

Bruce glanced at Alfred, and then back to his suit. He gazed at the suit, looking over the symbol on the chest. His fist clenched, before he reached forward for the outfit.

"Yes. I am."

* * *

Docks

The gang of five had all gathered at the designated spot, instructed by their boss Roman Sionis to arrive three hours early to scan the area for any foul play on Falcone's part. It's not that the Black Mask just didn't trust Falcone, oh no. He didn't trust anyone. The gang had managed to make a clean sweep across the docks, not finding anything worthwhile. They still had about an hour to spare, and instead of standing around like a group of morons, they had decided to start a game of cards while they waited for Falcone's men to show. The dealer handed out the cards, while another member started placing cards upright on another end of the crate that they had chosen for their little game.

"Floyd, can you see these?"

Nearby, the sharpshooter Floyd Lawton had climbed up the adjacent water tower to the docks and had taken up a position there to overlook the trade. He had his trusty targeting adjuster positioned over his right eye. He figured that it wouldn't hurt, considering that the wind was picking up tonight and he couldn't depend on assumptions alone. The adjuster zoomed in its reticule onto the cards, their image clear as day. He pulled out his old toy BB gun, which he always brought with him to play cards with the boys.

"Of course I can. Hurry and start before those Falcone punks get here; I want to get a hand off."

The group started to play, with Floyd shooting a card down to signal which one he wanted to play. It wasn't long before conversation started between the crew, and the subject landed on the strange happenings in the small-time crime in Gotham.

"So, I got a question. What do you guys think of someone going around beatin' the crap out of some of the gangs around the city?"

"It's probably just some nutjob," another ganger responded, "just trying to make a name for himself. Sooner or later, he's going to get his ass handed to him, just you wait."

"I don't know, bro. I saw on the news what he's done to some of these guys. Whoever's doing this knows a thing or two."

"Yeah, it takes real skill to put the beatdown on a bunch of pimps and drug pushers. This is just a phase, it's gonna pass real soon. Vigilantes don't tend to stay around very long in a town run by the Triumvirate," Floyd said through his comm speaker.

"It's just kind of creepy. I mean, who has the devotion to go on like that for two months?"

"Like I said, a nut job. Now, can we shut up about it, I'm on a one way ticket to victory! Read 'em and we-,"

"I've got suits pulling up on the other side of the meeting ground. Time for business, boys."

The group packed up the cards, with the cards being taken out of the winning gang member's frustrated hands.

"God dammit…"

* * *

As the group was moving towards the middle of the docks, Floyd kept his sight on the group. He placed his BB gun back into his equipment briefcase, and began to assemble his weapon of choice: a high-powered, bolt action sniper rifle with a silencer. He finished twisting on the silencer, and then pressed a button on his briefcase to activate his ammo compartment. He decided to go a normal route; nothing too fancy, these were just Falcone punks after all. As he placed the clip into the chamber, he noticed something fluttering in the wind in the corner of his eye. Floyd threw himself to the ground and stabilized his sniper rifle for a clean shot, scanning the rooftops overlooking the trade for any sign of another gunmen. Floyd looked all about the rooftops, not seeing anything through the scope of his rifle. He made another clean sweep before he aimed his rifle back to the trade off zone, attributing the alarm to nothing more than the weather. He looked over the surrounding buildings and crates, not being able to shake the suspicion that not all was right.

* * *

Falcone's men had finally arrived to the trade off site, with the one in the center holding a briefcase. One of Black Mask's men was holding a briefcase as well, and the two walked forward to meet each other in the middle of the zone. Both men met in the middle, with each handing over their briefcase to the other.

"Well, pleasure doing business with you guys. As always." The Black Mask thug spoke.

"Yeah, sure. Don't spend that in one place, chumps."

The Black Mask thug was about to retort when the group heard a loud crash come from behind them all. All parties involved instantly pulled their weapons and aimed at the source of the noise.

"What's going on? What are you assholes playing at? One of Falcone's men spoke up, aiming his weapon at the gang.

"Woah, woah, woah, cowboy. You'd better put that gun away if you want to walk away alive. That wasn't us. Joseph, go check out what that was," the head Roman thug ordered, watching Joseph walk towards the noise.

Both groups waited for Joseph to return, all the while they had their guns trained on each other…

* * *

Bruce laid Joseph on the ground after he was done with him, moving forward to peek around the corner of the building he was hiding behind. All of the guards were grouped together, all of their guns trained on each other. Surveying the area, Bruce noticed a glint on the water tower several yards from the docks.

_ A sniper. Floyd Lawton._

Bruce had read up on Lawton's skills, looking up the past cases that the gunmen was associated with during his mercenary days before he became a bodyguard for Roman Sionis. Bruce opened a compartment on his gauntlets, which brought up a keypad and screen. Taking out the lights in the warehouse would keep Lawton busy for only a few seconds, but it was enough time for Bruce to find a much more tactical position. Bruce typed a few keystrokes into his wrist pad computer, as his cowl's lenses prepared to change vision…

* * *

The mobsters were all beginning to get anxious. Joseph had been gone a long time, and it was becoming easier and easier to start pointing fingers. Or more accurately, guns.

"Okay, I've had enough. The deal is off, hand back the money, and you can keep your stash."

"Oh Hell no. What happened to Joseph, scum bag," one of Roman's men asked, keeping his trigger finger tense.

"The hell should I know. All I know is this deal is getting too shady for me and I ain't dealing with a couple of punks that can't even keep a handle on their own man."

"I swear to god, if you don't bring Joseph ou…"

The lights around the docks began to shatter suddenly as the group was thrown into darkness, and a loud thud was heard on the ground near them. The group heard a cry from one of their own, diminishing as they were dragged away.

Floyd stared in disbelief for a brief moment before he activated both the night vision on his adjuster and on his sniper rifle, cursing the amount of time it was taking for the vision to clear. Floyd looked through the scope to find one of the thugs face down, and one of the Falcone thugs missing. Floyd looked all across the area, but he couldn't find anyone. He suspected they were probably behind one of the many steel shipping containers, but it was killing Floyd to not have some eye on the situation. He called in through his communicator to the head of Roman's gang.

"Look alive, gents. We've got a visitor. Stay sharp, I can't see him."

"Can't see him? What do you mean you can't see him? That's what you here for!"

"Who are you talking to?!"

"Shit. Get your flash lights out, boys. Floyd says we've got someone,"

Both the Black Mask thugs and the Falcone men brought out flashlights and began to search the area, with a few men finding the unconscious body of one of Falcone's thugs lying face down in the snow. As they checked to see if he was still alive, two of Black Mask's thugs found a trail made in the slick pavement.

"Floyd, we found a trail. It's pretty faint, but we're going to follow it; keep an eye on us,"

The two followed the trail, with Floyd following their movement from afar. The two approached the container, with one checking in front while the other covered the back. The two saw the trail go behind the container, with the thug in front moving in to check where the trail led. The other stayed behind, checking every which way for any sign of the assailant. Two hands shot out of the opening of the container, pulling the thug inside with a muffled scream. The other Roman thug had heard this, having found the body and checking on it. As he arose to follow the noise, a metal object flew out of the darkness and knocked the thug down, leaving him unconscious. The mobsters huddled around the first body heard the noise, all of them becoming terrified by their allies' disappearances. They gathered together in a circle, each searching all over the dock area for their mysterious assailant. Each beginning to fear for their lives.

"What the hell is going on? Where is this thing?"

"Don't let it know you're afraid!"

"What the hell does that even mean?!"

"Shut up! Wherever you are, come out now you coward! Face us like a man!"

As the thug said this, two cylindrical grenades flew out from the darkness. The group only saw them for a split second before they exploded into a deafening sound and blinding light. Floyd was blinded on his water tower, as he tore his eyes away from his sniper and tore off his adjuster, attempting to ease his blindness. As the group on the ground held their ears and shut their eyes in attempts to relieve the disorientation, a figure flew out of the darkness and landed in the middle of the group. A strike flew out, connecting with one of the men's jaw, while a sweep knocked the thug onto his back. Another elbow flew into another thug's face, breaking his nose and causing him to stumble backwards. One of the thugs regained their surroundings and opened his eyes. What he saw before him was a large, black, horned creature, with two glowing white eyes. The thug's eyes widened, as the creature turned towards him with a dark frown on its face. The thug fell to the ground as he scrambled to get away, his voice caught in his throat. The creature moved with thunderous footsteps, its body seeming to float in the wind. As the creature moved, the other remaining conscious thug looked up. The creature reached into its belt and threw something behind him, causing the man to fall back down. As it approached, the other thug struggled to find his gun. He managed to finally find it on the pavement, before a black armored boot stepped on top of his hand, crushing it.

"Ah! No, no, no please! Please, don't kill me!"

"Quiet. You're going to tell your boss exactly what happened here. You're going to tell him that there's a new force in Gotham, and that his criminal acts are going to be shutdown, starting with this deal. Do you understand?"

The thug nodded his head vigorously, fear coursing through his veins.

"Good. Now, go to sleep and repeat this to your friends; if you don't do as I say, I will find you and make you follow my word," and with that speech, the creature punched the thug into unconsciousness.

Floyd had finally regained his sight and took a new look through his sniper rifle onto the grounds below him. What he saw made him do a double take, as what he witnessed seemed like it couldn't be real. He saw all of his cohorts and Falcone's men on the ground, knocked out cold; or they could be dead, Floyd really didn't know. But that's not what he saw that caused his disbelief. It was the sight of what could only be described as a monster, standing over one of his men. It was pure black, and it looked like it was draped in its own shadow…or wings? What were those things? It had horns, too. Long, sharp horns. As Floyd gazed at the creature, it turned its neck to where he was standing. Floyd saw two white and soulless eyes gazing at him, with the rest of its face covered in darkness. As it stared, Floyd grew a sense of uneasiness within him that caused him to shake and lose the steadiness of his weapon. Before he could steady his aim, the creature dropped something on the ground that caused smoke to erupt from where he was. Soon, smoke began to erupt all over the area, causing Floyd to have no eyes anywhere on the dock grounds. When the smoke cleared a minute later, the beast was gone. Floyd took another look around the docks at all of the men that lay upon the ground, before he brought out his cell phone from his pocket, putting in a number in his keypad. He put the phone to his ear, waiting for the receiver to pick up.

"Roman. We, uh…we had a problem…"

* * *

_Black Mask_

_All of the men waited in the boss's office, each one keeping their heads down as they nervously awaited the arrival of Roman Sionis, A.K.A. The Black Mask. Each man knew that they were in deep trouble for letting the deal go awry, as Roman had stressed to them just how important it was to keep up a civil partnership with both Falcone and Maroni. They would get chewed out if they were lucky, and deep down, they knew that they were perhaps the unluckiest men in the world at the moment. They had all discussed beforehand about what their punishment might be, whether it be shot to death, becoming one of Dr. Crane's lab experiments, or being eaten alive by one of the exotic animals that the boss was known for renting out for just such an occasion. They could only wait with bated breath as they prepared for the worst. _

_They were all broken out of their reverie as they heard the door open to the room they were in, with Basil Karlo standing in the opening. He motioned for one of the men to follow him to Sionis' office. The thug stood up and gave a nod to everyone in the room, knowing that this may very well be the last he would ever see of these men. He followed Karlo to the boss's main office door, but before he walked in, Karlo put a hand on his shoulder to hold him back for a moment. _

"_He's…he's not very happy. So just watch what you say, yeah?"_

_The mobster gave a nod, and then he walked through the doors. He entered the room to see the boss's desk, with the back of the chair facing him. Beside the desk and the chair was a young woman in a striped business suit, jotting down notes onto a clipboard. She kept a straight face as she wrote, only turning her eyes briefly to the man whom had entered. She leant over and whispered into the chair, where a hand lifted and gave her the motion to leave the room. She gathered her notes and left, not before giving another look to the humble man whom had entered the room. Was it just him, or did she look almost sorry?_

"_Sit."_

_The thug had jumped at hearing his boss's voice, not prepared for its suddenness. The thug approached the chair in front of the desk, his body feeling a lot heavier with each step. He had hoped that he would never have to get this close to the boss ever in his life, and yet, here he was. He took his seat, his body feeling hotter than a furnace. Roman didn't turn his chair to face him._

"_So, the deal didn't go according to plan, Floyd tells me?"_

_The thug gulped as he tried to answer, finding his mouth to dry to find the words. He stammered for a bit as he tried to get his bearings, finally answering the question, _

"_N-n-no; no, it, uh, didn't go exactly as we wanted it to."_

_There was a silence as the thug waited for Roman to respond, with each second ticking by so slow that it felt like an eternity before the boss finally answered._

"_And why is that?"_

_This was what he had been dreading. He took a deep breath before he launched into the events of last night, praying that the Black Mask would understand._

"_Well, boss, it went down like this: you see, we got there three hours early, just like you said, and we searched the place; we didn't find nothing when we looked. So eventually, the Falcone goons showed up, and we had traded the packages, no problem. The boys and I were all ready to go, when the lights went out. When they came back on, one of our guys was gone, and one of Falcone's was unconscious. While some of our guys and I were checking out the body, there was a commotion where more of Falcone's boys and our boys were attacked by something, and then we were alone. We started to freak out, and then everything went white and we all had a ringing in our ears; Floyd says that they were flashbangs. When I could see again, I saw a…it was…it was like a monster! I'm being honest with you, boss, it was a big black monster with like these horns on his head and his body was flowing in the wind, and…"_

_The thug was cut off by a gunshot to his head, and the force knocked him out of his seat and to the ground. He was dead before he hit the carpet, the bullet piercing his brain and killing him instantly. Blood began to pour from the wound as the thug lay on the ground, his words caught in his throat. Roman placed the smoking gun on his desktop, wiping the blood from his mask with a clean rag that he kept in his top drawer. He closed his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh, pressing a button on his intercom as he took off his helmet to massage his temples._

"_Mercy, call the cleaners and tell them I got some trash in my office that needs to be disposed of; and I need some carpet replaced."_

"_Of course, Roman." _

_Roman Sionis let a hand fall down his face as he attempted to clear his head then proceeded to place the helmet back on to his head. He called Karlo on his cell phone to let the other men into the office. The thugs entered the room, all of their eyes widening at the dead body of their cohort lying on the ground with blood pooling around him. They were all lined up by the door, none of them wanting to approach the desk. Roman stood from his chair, as he waltzed over to his men with his hands behind his back._

"_Now, I believe that there has been some sort of miscommunication when we all agreed that I wanted this deal to get done. You all seemed to believe that it was of no importance whatsoever, that it wouldn't matter in the long run. Well, as unbelievable as it may seem to you, THIS DEAL WAS OF THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE TO ME," Roman bellowed, causing all of the thugs present to start shaking. All except for Floyd Lawton. _

_Roman continued, "Now that the deal didn't go down, you all want to start making up stories. You want to make me look like an idiot with these stories of monsters, and demons. At least, that's what Jerome thought. Well, do I look like an idiot?"_

_None of the men spoke a word, waiting for their boss to continue._

"_I ASKED YOU FUCKING IDIOTS A QUESTION! ANSWER ME OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL PUT A BULLET IN EACH OF YOUR GODDAMNED WORTHLESS HEADS!"_

_All of the men jumped at the sound of their boss's rage filled roar, none of them expecting that he had wanted an answer. One brave man piped up, his voice quivering with fear, _

"_No, sir, you don't look like an idiot."_

"_Thank you. So, here's what is gonna happen. One of you is going to tell me the truth, or so help me god, I'm gonna shoot every one of you," Roman said as he put the barrel of a gun to the head of the mobster who spoke up. The man began to shake violently, sweat streaming from his face as he shut his eyes closed. Roman leaned in close to the man's face, his breath coming out in a raspy whisper._

"_What. Happened. Last. Night."_

_The man began to shake as he tried to find the words to answer the question, his voice quivering as he did, _

"_We…we w-were attacked, boss."_

"_Attacked. By. What?"_

"_A…a…a giant bat-man…"_

_The thug waited for the gun to fire, his eyes shut so tight that he might as well have been giving himself crow's feet. When nothing happened, he opened his eyes to find that Roman had removed the gun from his head and had taken a step back. He kept his eyes trained on him, but he looked less tense than before._

"_Did he have horns on his head? Was he black? His body flowing in the wind?"_

_The thug could only nod frantically in confusion, not sure of what exactly was going on. Roman nodded, looking over all of the men involved in the failed trade off._

"_You all see the same thing?"_

_All of them nodded frantically, each one not letting their hopes get to high yet._

"…_Fine. Jerome said the same thing, but I'm sure you all understand just how difficult it could be to believe a story like that. *Sigh*, get out of here, I'll get to you all later. Except for you, Floyd. You stay."_

_All of the men filed out of the room as fast as possible, with Floyd being the only one left behind. Roman stared at the gunman, his posture much more relaxed than it had been before. _

"_Floyd, I made you the eyes of the operation to make sure it got done. What the hell happened? Are they telling the truth?"_

"_Yes. It wasn't just some nutjob, this guy was a professional. He had flashbang grenades, some shurikens or something judging by some of the boys' bruises. He must have had some sort of frequency generator, because he was able to blow out all of the lights in the docking area. I think it's the vigilante that's been in the papers for a couple months now."_

"_Really? That lunatic?"_

"_Yes. He pulled out some fancier tools though. He turned out the lights and used the flashbangs to disorient me. He knew I would be there."_

"_How do you know he didn't do it just to confuse the boys themselves?"_

"_Because this guy knows what he's doing. When I came to, he had every one of our men and Falcone's punks unconscious. He didn't need to blow out the lights or use flashbangs. My bet is he could have beaten all of those men with his eyes closed; but he knew I was there and that he'd be dead the second I saw him. He pulled out all the tricks to disorient me. It worked too."_

_Roman put his hands in his pockets, his mind reeling with this news._

"_What the hell does this mean? Is this Maroni's doing, ya think?"_

"_Nah. Maroni's not bright enough to pull something like this off, or resourceful enough to hire a guy like this. I think it's just some nut case trying to make a name for himself. It's all over the news about some giant bat flying over the city, saving people; like I said, a nut case."_

"_Shit," Roman said, turning back to his desk to sit down. So, there was some lunatic running around dressed like a bat. A lunatic that knew where the trade off was taking place, that Floyd was watching over the deal, and had access to some military grade armory. The more Roman thought about it, the more he realized that this freak may not have been as crazy as he was thinking he was. _

"_I have to call Falcone and Maroni about this."_

"_Listen, Roman-," Floyd paused as Black Mask gave him an annoyed and cold glance, "-I mean boss, this isn't something to get worked up over. This guy isn't going to last a week, not with the way he's dressing. A bat? This is going to pass in no time."_

"_If what you're telling me is that this guy has been doing this shit for two months, and that now he has access to weapons that even I can't get my hands on, then there is no way that this is going to end easy, Floyd. No way in hell. Mercy, set up a meeting with Falcone and Maroni tomorrow afternoon. We have a lot to talk about."_

"_Yes, Roman," Mercy responded. Floyd raised his eyebrow at Black Mask at Mercy's allowed use of his first name, who merely shrugged in response._

"_She helps with management."_

_Floyd gave another look, prompting Roman to let out a sigh._

"_Plus she has a nice ass."_

_Roman pressed the button on the intercom again, rather impatiently._

"_and where the hell are the cleaners Mercy?"_


End file.
